Lord Motte's Vampire Bride - Version 1

Are You Capable?

Lord Motte slaps the table in satisfaction. "Now that's what I'm talking about." He leans back in his chair casually once again and sets his polished shoes on the dining table.

A deadset frown appears on my face as his gloating fills the air. I hated to be the cause of his mirth, but it was inevitable. He would have dug that little secret out of me somehow.

Perhaps, that little detail will satisfy him and he won't dig deeper.

I pray he doesn't.

"And then how did your little heartbroken-self react to your father knowing of your existence?" He stares at me in wonder. "I hope it wasn't too traumatic for you."

"Certainly not the worst thing that's ever happened to me." I fire back.

"I would be insulted otherwise, darling." He examines his nails as I see the interest drain out of him.

"Speak up quickly, girl." He adds just as I begin to suspect he'd let me move on. "Wouldn't want to lose your chance by stalling." He pauses to sigh in annoyance. "Again!" He growls.

"I kicked him in the ribs! Is that what you want to hear?" I burst out. "I kicked the bastard until he pleaded for me to stop, and even then, I didn't stop." I let out a sob as the memory flooded back to me. I couldn't stop. At the moment, my soul felt crushed. The man whom I needed so badly growing up was nowhere to be found because I believed my mother had never told him. I didn't know if she had been lying to me or if he just found out on his own through the grapevine and just never bothered.

I later found out it was the latter. He just never bothered. My mother didn't know he knew. No one knew. And, here I was, blaming my mother my whole life for my father never being in my life when in reality, he was not in my life by choice! If she had told him, it likely wouldn't have made a difference!

A surprised smile slowly spread across his face. "You keep surprising me...ah, you're a good one. So, tell me, when did you stop?"

"I didn't hurt him that badly-"

"When?" He interrupts.

"No!" I scream at him. "I didn't stop! I didn't stop until he couldn't plead anymore!"

"Would you have killed him if you could have gotten away with it? I have a feeling you would." He narrows his eyes at me with a faint smile remaining.

He is attracted to this. I shouldn't find that appalling really, but it's still astonishing to me just a little bit. 

"What kind of q-question is that?" I ask in horror. My voice is coated with hate, but I still find myself stuttering nevertheless. The nerves won't go away, will they?

"A genuine one." He teases.

"I am not interested in murder." I wrinkle my eyebrows in disdain at the mere thought. "He didn't deserve it just because he was a..." I look away as angry tears threaten to spill once again. "He was nothing but a..." I can't bring myself to continue. I can't even think of a word worthy of describing my hate for him. My utter disappointment in him is all I can feel. I can't think legibly.

"He didn't deserve it?" Lord Motte asks curiously. "You speak as if he is in the past tense." 

I whip my head in his direction in shock. The Lord doesn't miss anything, does he? "I miss spoke," I reply sternly. "You misunderstood what I was trying to say."

"Sure." He shrugs. "Or, maybe your no good father is dead." 

"How dare you!" I defend myself. "Are you accusing me?" 

"Never." He smirks. "But you are the one that brought up yourself as a suspect. He could have died from old age from all I know. You humans fall down like dominos." He giggles.

I grimace and shake my head. "You're playing with my head." 

"I'm simply trying to figure out if you're capable of murder. You speak distastefully of feeding on the innocent, but, if it were your father or someone equally as deserving, would they deserve such a fate?" He inquires with a smirk. "If so, I'd be happy to oblige if he is still alive - once I can leave this damn mansion that is." 

"You're disgusting." I spit in his direction. 

"You don't deny it." He observes while I roll my eyes. "So, what happened next?" 

I sit in silence, turning away from the Lord once again. "Nothing. I left him on the road after he passed out drunk." 

"You left him helpless on the road? Didn't you call the authorities as you mentioned before?" The Lord asks, feigning shock. 

I turn to him with my arms stubbornly crossed in front of me. "No." 

"No? You didn't leave him helpless? Or no you didn't-" 

"I didn't call anyone! I left him helpless and alone! Okay?" I screech before he can finish his sentence. I even stand from my chair daringly and lean over the table. "He didn't deserve my help!" 

"He's a human being, isn't he?" The Lord isn't startled or challenged whatsoever. 

I watch him in silence as he leans closer, observing me curiously while I refuse to back away from him, all the nerves I once had in his presence now gone. He's pushed me too far. 

"And also, I do find it strange that you happened to have followed him and witnessed him crashing his car. Oddly convenient if you ask me. Though driving drunk is an excellent cover up if that was his reputation, assuming you were telling the truth about that." The Lord says thoughtfully to himself. 

I scoff as he continues. 

"Very suspicious indeed. Now, tell me. Was that the same cover-up story that you used with the cops or did you leave out the rib kicking and stuck that on somebody else?" He pushes.

"I never spoke with the cops!" I insist, my heart pounding in my chest once again. 

"Well, you have rehearsed that story before, haven't you? It's still not the truth. I don't know what to tell you, but you must be remembering it wrong." The Lord raises his arms. "Perhaps, you're pushing back the trauma so you don't remember murdering your father." 

My mouth drops and I leap from my chair. "How dare you! I am not a murderer!" 

"Fine. You're a bystander of murder." The Lord stands from his chair as well. "You left him for dead, and you knew it, didn't you?" 

I hold on as long as possible but finally succumb to my tears, falling back into my chair. "I didn't know what I was doing." I weep. "I didn't truly want him to die. He was an important man! I thought someone would be looking out for him and find for him!" 

"Clearly there wasn't anyone, was there?" He tisks, shaking his finger at me. "How negligent of you." 

"No." I sadly admit. "He died." 

"And there was a murder investigation, wasn't there?" He claps his hands in glee as if he just solved the case. 

"Yes." I tighten my jaw in dread. 

"An important man like that can't just die on the side of the road with - now I'm just assuming this - broken ribs and other injuries?" The Lord says, pleased with himself. 

"No." I simply agree. "They don't let that sort of thing go." 

Lord Motte nods jubilantly. "So, now for the juiciest question: did you run him off the road or not?"